


Come or Go

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Desperation, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Objectification, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Power Dynamics, Torture, Watersports, and hydra's medical personnel are sadistic bastards, brock romlow is a huge jerk, kinkmeme fill, set pre- or during CA:TWS, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a kinkmeme prompt:<br/>HYDRA conditions the Winter Soldier to piss himself instead of ejaculating semen during orgasm.</p>
<p>That's it, that's the fic. You've been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come or Go

**Author's Note:**

> This is about 99% desperation and 1% actual pisskink. What can I say, it was an experiment.
> 
> I also deeply apologize for the title, but I couldn't resist.

The labs are dimly lit after hours and Rumlow's steps echo loudly through the empty hallways. _Regular working hours_ , he muses, _wonder how that feels._ He wouldn't trade.

Doctor Harlan had summoned him to Research Room no. 3b, and that's where he knocks. 

"Come in," he hears a distant voice, so he pushes the door open. The doctor is bent over a screen, busily pressing buttons. He looks up and waves Rumlow closer with a smile.

"Doc," Rumlow nods. They might not be friends, but after years of working together you know who shares your views and attitudes closer than others. Brock Rumlow and Raymond Harlan share not only the categorical belief of achieving order through pain, they also both enjoy seeing the process happen. In detail. All for the good cause, naturally.

"Thanks for stopping by," the doctor says. "I might have mentioned that little side project of mine the Secretary so generously gave me permission to indulge in? Well, I'm finally ready to share specifics, and if you're interested, I could use some help, too." 

Rumlow raises his eyebrows, prompting the doctor to go on. The man seems in extraordinary cheerful mood tonight. "First of all, let me introduce you to our guest. Look," he says, gesturing further into the room to the back of what looks like a massive dental chair. "I'd swivel it around, but the experiment is at a rather fragile stage and I'm afraid any movement might set it off. Come over here."

He steps around the weighty construction and as Rumlow follows him, he sees – Rumlow whistles in surprise. Strapped to the chair is no other than HYDRA's secret super-weapon – the asset, the Winter Soldier – whatever they call him these days.

"Not bad, huh?" The doctor rearranges his glasses and Rumlow isn't sure if he's referring to the fact that he's allowed to experiment on the Winter Soldier or that the subject in question is stark naked and glistening with sweat. Hell, Rumlow himself certainly appreciates both. For him, pain and pleasure have always been woven tightly together, so the fact that the Soldier's muscles dance in a desperate struggle underneath a sheen of sweat only adds to the charm.

The doctor smiles knowingly. "The Soldier knows better than to fight against the applications," he explains, referring to the various tubes and wires connected to the asset's body. "But even his unnatural endurance has its limits. He’s trying to adjust to the provided stimuli."

Rumlow is all ears – sounds like an experiment exactly to his liking. He tears his eyes from the Soldier’s mouth, stretched around a feeding tube of some kind. "Tell me more," he says. Judging from the doctor's beaming face, he doesn't need to be told twice.

"Did you know he's fully functional?" Harlan makes an obvious gesture with his right hand. Rumlow quirks an eyebrow. "How'd I know?" 

The doctor shakes his head in a half-amused laugh. "You’ve worked with him before, right? You guys never got curious how far that mindless obedience goes? Wow. Medical’s 1:0 ahead, I can tell you that."

"Is that so." Rumlow clucks his tongue, eyes snapping back to the feeding tube. 

"Strictly for research purposes, obviously" says the doctor. "So it’s a proven fact that can get it up, you see? Reach orgasm, too."

Rumlow whistles. The thought of a bunch of white coats surrounding a naked Winter Soldier for _research purposes_ makes his pants sit surprisingly tight.

The doctor shoots him a mild smile. "See, we've been forced to release or trade in lots of our prisoners lately, and that made me think how nice I'd be to at least provide them with a little something to remember us by. The plan is to switch certain physical responses with others. And if it works on him – " he nods towards the Soldier, "it will work on anybody. The first experiment is to replace his ability to orgasm. I was thinking I'd be pretty amusing if instead of shooting off, he'd piss himself."

Rumlow chokes. "I might have underestimated you," he says, not without admiration. The doctor looks pleased. "At this stage we're connecting the experience of release with the sexual act. Let me explain these devices…" 

The Soldier’s already incredibly tense muscles bunch up even more as Doctor Harlan adjusts some wires. "It’s a punishment/reward based system," Harlan explains, seemingly completely unimpressed by the sight before him. "The tube in his mouth induces liquid, slowly but steadily, and the electrodes – well. He's not allowed relief. If he empties his bladder at any other time than when he's being told, the resulting pain should teach him better."

Rumlow can't help but notice how there are wires connected to the Winter Soldier's nipples and balls, too. A mix of a little sympathy and a whole lot of excitement spreads in his guts at the thought of the doctor's fingers hovering over that button.

"Let's detach the tube," Harlan says and busies himself with the control board. There's a wheezing sound and a metallic click like something’s unlocking, and the doctor bends over the chair and lifts the tube out of the Soldier's mouth. "Shh," he says over the asset's wet coughs, "Stay calm, struggling only adds to the pressure."

The noise from the Soldier's throat can only be described as a whimper and the doctor's mouth splits into a grin. "Look at his belly," he says to Rumlow. "You can _see_ how full he is." 

Turning back to the Soldier, who has a difficult time keeping his eyes focused, he hums: "Almost bursting, aren't you?" He pinches the immobilized man’s cheek playfully. When he lets go, the Soldier’s head falls forward and rolls sideways in a lame attempt at a nod. The doctor rests his palm against the asset's abdomen, suggestively flexing his fingers. The Soldier's face distorts and his eyes widen in panic. For the first time, he struggles against his restraints.

"When I talk to you I expect an answer," the doctor whispers into his ear in mocked tenderness.

"Y-es," the Soldier rasps, throat raw from misuse. "Yes, bursting. Please."

Harlan flashes his teeth and turns to Rumlow. "We could do everything remotely, of course," he explains, stroking the Soldier's lower belly with feather-light touches. "But I think that administering the last glass manually adds a touch of something personal."

Rumlow feels his cock strain against his briefs with every step as he's asked to fill one of the large glasses at the sink. When he returns, stepping to the other side of the Soldier's head and raising the glass, he gets acknowledged for the first time.

"Permission to speak," Rumlow says on a whim. "Can't," the asset gasps immediately, "Can't hold any more can't do it c- an't…"

"Oh dear," the doctor says from the other side. He tugs gently at the wire connected to the asset's balls. "And here I thought the last time I had to remind you of the rules you said it hurt _so bad_ …" 

The Soldier's mouth falls open in a silent scream. Eventually, his whole body shudders and then he goes limp, lets his head fall towards Rumlow and parts his lips in surrender. Rumlow engulfs the wet-haired head with one hand and raises the glass to the Soldier's mouth with the other. He takes his sweet time as he pours the liquid past those cracked lips, making sure no drop goes to waste. Apart from occasional retching and the tremors, the asset holds completely still. On his cheek, a tear mixes with sweat. Rumlow is so hard he's seeing stars.

When the glass is empty, he steps back to set it down. The Soldier blinks and tries to make out the form of the doctor. Eventually succeeding, he flexes his hands limply. "Please," he breathes, "please, can I touch? I can't without, I can't, please."

Harlan seems amused. "Yes," he says to the asset, and to Rumlow, "Now look at this."

He presses a button and the restraints on the Soldier's arms fall off. Rumlow automatically reaches for his gun, but what the asset does is he desperately reaches down and squeezes his limp dick. His head cracks back against the chair, and he bites his lip hard as he starts to violently tug at the sweat-slicked skin. Rumlow quirks an eyebrow in silent question.

"I told him if he manages to get it up, his body can't piss that easily," the doctor explains quietly, waving Rumlow over to his side of the chair again.

Rumlow leans in with a frown. "Look at the state he's in. How on earth do you think he'll manage to get hard?"

"I don't," the doctor says lightly, "but isn't it quite a sight?" Rumlow chokes up a laugh again. "You're full of surprises, Doc."

The doctor nods wistfully. "So," he says, "you're enjoying the little demonstration so far? Do you want to help me with the next step of the experiment?" 

Brock doesn't bother to hide the excitement in his voice. "Are you're actually asking me to fuck him – for science?"

"We've used various devices for conditioning so far, and now I'd like to test his response to real intercourse," the doctor explains, nodding.

Jesus Christ. "Sure thing," Brock says. "So the plan is I give it to him good until he pisses himself?"

"Ah, commander." The doctor exaggerates a sigh. "We do not work on such loose parameters here." He gives Rumlow one of his shark-smiles. "He'll piss himself at the very moment you'll spill into him."

Rumlow whistles and has to readjust his pants. If that doesn't sound promising…

"Are you ready?"

"Hell yeah," Rumlow nods.

The doctor steps forward to the chair again, gesturing the asset to pause. As the Soldier releases his cock, it's rubbed pink and as limp as before. "Commander Rumlow has agreed to help you with your little problem," the doctor says. "Do you want that?"

The Soldier nods eagerly. He sets his jaw to brace for the movement and carefully spreads his legs. The doctor tsks and raises a finger. "Uh-uh," he says. "You know how the dogs do it."

Harlan presses another button and all remaining restrains crack open. The Soldier's eyes dart to the floor and Rumlow palms himself through his pants because _fuck_ , the expression on the guy's face as he evaluates the distance and required movements to get down there and realizes he cannot come up with a single scenario in which he's going to make it without pissing himself –

Brock can hear the Soldier's teeth work and no, this is not going to end before it even started. He walks up to the asset and hooks his arm around the Soldier's sweat-drenched back and under his arm. "Come on," Rumlow says, "together." To his amusement, the asset makes a grateful noise and Rumlow lowers the hunched figure to the floor.

Instead of settling on all fours, the Soldier rests his head on the floor and immediately uses his free hand to grip his dick, trying to hold it all in. As soon as he's set, he parts his legs and mewls.

Rumlow frees his cock and the cool brush of air against the eagerly glistening tip makes his whole body shudder in anticipation. Kneeling between the asset's legs, he licks over his thumb and strokes it lightly over the Soldier's anus.

"Well, shit," he laughs, addressing the asset directly. "You're clenching so hard, no way a real-life cock is gonna go in there, sorry mate." The Soldier shifts uncomfortably. "P-lease hurry," he whispers. Rumlow chuckles, nodding at the doctor as he gets handed a bottle of lube. "Sorry pal, I'm kinda attached to my cock, won't have it crushed by some super-soldier ass." Truth is, he'd have no problem fucking that hole open with a gun barrel or a baton, but even without prior treatment people have pissed themselves from that.

Rumlow's cock jumps at the thought. He smacks the asset's cheek playfully, then wets a finger with lube. "Try to relax a bit."

He massages a generous amount of lube onto that pink sphincter, feeling the muscle twitch against his thumb. Rumlow smirks and on a whim, he lowers his head, dragging his tongue over the soft flesh. The asset chokes and almost breaks his neck trying to look over his shoulder, and _fuck_ , Brock's never seen that face cracked so open and vulnerable. He'd like to come all over it right now, but he's got other duties, of course. So instead, he gives the Solider a few more rigorous licks and earns himself muffled shrieks that sound equally of arousal and of fear.

Brock takes up the lube again and coats his fingertips. Even if he wanted to do this slow and carful, he'd need more slender and less calloused fingers to match his intentions. He doesn't want to, anyway. The first digit slips in rather smoothly now, though. Rumlow realizes too late he should have disposed of his tactical gloves. Great. Even though they're only half-finger gloves, he's got to get new ones tomorrow. The full body shudder running through the asset as the gritty fabric breaches him is plenty of compensation, though. "That's right," Rumlow says, "suck it in." 

He orders the Soldier to jerk his shriveled dick again. Meanwhile, Rumlow crooks his finger and starts rubbing the Soldier's prostate. "O-oh," the Soldier huffs and tugs at himself violently. Their shared effort eventually coaxes the asset to half-mast.

"Hands back on the floor," Rumlow says and reaches between the Soldier's legs. "It's not getting any better than this," he laughs, "but look how we can make it dance." He prods the Soldier's cock with a single finger, making it bob up and down rapidly.

The Soldier grunts in discomfort and Rumlow takes the sound as signal to push another finger into him. The asset pants noisily – and hell, that's it, Rumlow's cock is gonna fit in there or it isn't, but he cannot wait one fucking second longer. He lines up and shoves in with a single thrust. The asset's head hits the floor as he cries out and reaches for his dick with both hands.

"You think you can squeeze it shut like that?" Rumlow asks, head dizzy with pleasure. 

The Soldier whimpers. 

"You better clutch it hard then," Rumlow says breathlessly and rolls his hips with a guttural groan. The asset might actually be sobbing.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Thank god Brock has decent stamina, because otherwise he'd be long gone. The sight of it all, Jesus Christ. He starts fucking into the asset for real; deep, hard thrusts that drag the Soldier's head back and forth across the floor.

"Make sure he doesn't disconnect the electrodes," the doctor calls from the side. Rumlow had almost forgotten about him. He forces the Soldier's hands to the side and checks the wire, tugging on it for good measure.

"All in place," he says. He isn't sure how he'd prefer this experiment to end; fucking the piss out of the Soldier straight away, setting him up for punishment – or watch the Soldier piss himself right when he busts a nut inside him.

Rumlow doesn't notice how much he's sped up until he can't ignore the sheer desperation in the Soldier's grunts anymore. He gives two especially hard thrusts, just because, before he slows down. "What’s up?" 

"Soon, p-lease soon," the Soldier croaks and Rumlow laughs. He pulls his dick out and leisurely pops just the head in again. He repeats this a few times, spreading a glob of precome around the puffy rim. "Could do this all night," he says.

The Soldier sobs. "W-hat do you… need?" he whispers, "T-ell me. I – anything."

_Oh, fuck._ With a content sigh, Rumlow sinks in balls deep again. "Never mind," he says while he's building up speed. "Just thinking about what we're gonna do to you once the conditioning is complete – ah. As soon as the doc is done with you – I can't think of anyone who wouldn't wanna try that, can you? Hell yeah, again and again and again. How many do you think you can take till you beg?" Rumlow curses and grinds their bodies together. "Ah, but don’t worry, from time to time we’re gonna make it really good for you – _oh yes_ , bless that chair, you’ll never know what’s coming. God, I’m gonna turn you around and watch your face when it happens…"

Rumlow loses himself in his fantasies and the desperate clench of the Soldier's ass. They've ended up a few feet away from were they first started. He's fucked the asset halfway across the room and there's a wet sheen on the floor, marking their way.

"What's that?" he asks the asset with a slap, "You been drooling again?"

The Soldier tries to raise his head. "F-for-bidden?" he rasps.

_Mh, fuck_. "No," Rumlow answers in sync with a sharp quirk of his hips. "No, just pathetic." 

He quickens his pace again, imagining fucking the spit out of the Soldier's mouth with every brutal thrust. If this isn't the most intense fuck he's had in – oh Christ, the asset's raw whimpers go directly to his – he's so damn – _oh_. The intensity of his orgasm takes him by surprise and he swears loudly.

The Solider _screams_. His whole body arches back, he grabs Rumlow's thighs and and impales himself as deep as possible on his twitching cock. "Ye-aah, ahh, _ahh._ " The Soldier raises his hips and sinks down again and again while his dick bobs up and down, a fountain of piss exploding out of him. "Ye-s. Yes, aah- _ah_ -ah," he sobs and nobody has ever milked Rumlow of the last fucking drop so thoroughly as the Soldier's spasming body.

Floating on the aftershocks of his orgasm, he reaches forward and grabs the Soldier's dick, angling it up so the steam of piss hits the Soldier's chest. "Shhh," Brock says, "It's okay, I've got you." 

The Soldier wheezes and leans back so he's able to rest his head on Rumlow's shoulder. Brock presses a hand against the Soldier's belly, massaging the wet skin. He imagines spreading his load inside the asset's guts and prodding that abused bladder at the same time. The Soldier sobs uncontrollably and his dick still keeps it coming, drenching himself in piss.

"G-ood-so-good," he whimpers between sobs that wreck his whole body. "Thank you thank you thank you." It's the filthiest, hottest thing Rumlow has ever seen. "Yeah," he says, "shower yourself in it good, you deserve it." 

When he's done leisurely riding out his own high he looks to the doctor, who sits at his desk, taking down notes. "Done?" Brock asks and the doctor nods. Rumlow pulls out of the asset and stands up abruptly. The Soldier's body collapses forward onto the soiled floor, fingers trying to grip something that isn't there. He's still pissing.

"Well," Rumlow says to the doctor while he tugs himself in again, wiping his hands on his combat pants. "Hope I could help your little experiment along."

"Most certainly," Harlan nods. Rumlow thinks he looks delighted and maybe amused, but not aroused in a sexual way. He wonders if he's really into it just for science.

"You can stay as long as you wish, commander, but I think I've kept you long enough. Excuse me if I'm not shaking your hand this time," he says. 

Rumlow laughs. "No offense taken. Pleasure to be of service. Keep me updated on your progress." His eyes dart to the Soldier one last time; glassy-eyed figure spasming on the floor. His drenched hips go on twitching mindlessly and –"Hey!" Rumlow waves the doctor close, "Freak’s getting off! He's not supposed to come, is he?"

White liquid slowly spreads over the soaked floor. The asset mouthes the wet surface in a silent litany of thanks and praise. 

"What, no!" The doctor is on his feet in an instant, small device in hand. The next thing Rumlow hears is the Soldier screaming like he's being gutted. His whole body jerks violently off the floor. Brock considers offering the doctor assistance, but when he looks at the man's face, he realizes – _oh_. The doctor doesn't look like he's too sorry about his failed experiment.

_Well_ , Rumlow thinks as he turns and retreats politely, animal shrieks cutting through the air. _He might not be in it for science alone, after all._


End file.
